Freedom of the Press
by Ilanala
Summary: “Don’t the civvies have anything better to do with their time than waste our paper with their idiotic blather?” -- No, Apollo, they don't. Be afraid.


"Oh, Lee!" Starbuck's gleeful shout rang out from across the hangar deck.

Cally looked up from her clipboard, desperate for any distraction from the mind-numbingly boring task of figuring out how use their dwindling inventory of spare parts to keep the maximum number of Vipers working. Apollo, lying under a nearby Viper, didn't respond.

"Have you—," Starbuck started but broke off when Cally pointed out Apollo. She wandered over to stand next to the Viper, a sheet of paper in her hand and an obvious smirk on her face. "So, Lee," Starbuck said, falsely casual. "How's it going?"

"Fine," came Apollo's apprehensive response, with a clear undertone of 'What are you gloating about and how much am I going to not like it?'

"Have you seen the newspaper those reporters have started putting out?" Starbuck asked in the same gleeful tone.

"Don't the civvies have anything better to do with their time than waste our paper with their idiotic blather?" Even with his voice muffled by the Viper, Apollo sounded awfully disgruntled. "Talk wireless is bad enough."

"They have some really great articles, though. You should take a look." Starbuck grinned at Cally, who offered an 'I have no idea what you're talking about, crazy girl' smile in return.

"I'm kind of busy at the moment," Apollo grunted. Cally wasn't exactly sure what he was fixing, but she suspected that at this point he was just using it as an excuse to avoid Starbuck's latest silliness.

"Here, I'll read it to you," Starbuck offered magnanimously, which definitely meant that something was up. She cleared her throat dramatically and brought the newspaper (a rather unimpressive one page affair) up with a flourish. "Military/Civilian Relations," she read. "How Close Are They?"

Cally put down her clipboard, abandoning all pretense of working in her curiosity. What on Kobol was so interesting about that? "There is no doubt that since the destruction of the Colonies," Starbuck continued, "The civilian government and the military have been working together more closely than ever before."

"Is there a point to this?" Apollo asked impatiently.

"Shut up and listen," Starbuck tossed back, and he did. (It was a source of endless amusement to Cally how whipped Apollo sometimes seemed considering that the two of them weren't even dating, even if it was usually just him not wanting to make the effort of a arguing.)

"Commander William Adama, hero of the Cylon Wars and commander of the Battlestar Galactica, and President Laura Roslin have had their differences, but it seems not all military personnel share Adama's disdain for the former Secretary of Education. Adama's son, Captain Lee "Apollo" Adama, has, the _Colonial Clarion_ recently learned, agreed to be Roslin's 'personal military advisor.'"

Starbuck paused for a moment to maximize the suspense. "What the hell is this?" Apollo demanded. He was still under the Viper, but he didn't seem to be doing anything and now Cally was positive he was hiding. If this was going where she thought it might be, she couldn't really blame him.

"Shh," Starbuck ordered before continuing. "But is that all the man she calls Captain Apollo is to our new president?" Cally couldn't contain a burst of laughter at that, and Chief Tyrol and a group of deckhands seemed to be stifled giggles as they pretended to work nearby.

Finally, Apollo came out from his hiding place. "Are you sure this is a real newspaper?" he asked incredulously. He tried to grab the sheet out of Starbuck's hands, but she danced away.

"A resident of Colonial One who wished to remain anonymous recently captured this photograph of Apollo leaving Roslin's quarters the night after the Zarek incident," Starbuck read on, despite Apollo's glare. She help the picture up for a few seconds, long enough for Cally to see what looked like the president in a night gown a few feet behind a fully-dressed Apollo.

"Let me see that," Apollo demanded, but again Starbuck jumped out of his way. "Kara," he pleaded, coming after her again, and this time when she moved he followed her, and proceeded to chase her around the hangar deck.

"Roslin's personal assistant was elsewhere at the time," Starbuck yelled, struggling to read and run at the same time. "So she was alone—" She jumped over a pile of cables and dodged past some deckhands, while Apollo tripped and lost her. "…with Apollo. One wonders what they would be discussing alone in her personal quarters late at night. The unprofessional nature of their meeting, as evidenced by the president's attire, also begs the question: what exactly is their relationship?" Apollo had almost caught up to Starbuck, so she shoved the paper into Cally's hands as she ran by. "Keep reading," she said.

It took Cally a moment to stop laughing, but then she obeyed. "Apollo and Roslin first met on C-A Day when he was assigned to escort her flight back to Caprica. When news of the attacks arrived and Roslin took charge, witnesses say Apollo was one of the first to accept Roslin's authority, even disobeying a direct order from his father to continue her rescue operations."

"Stop reading that!" Apollo yelled, but it sounded like he was laughing too. He was fighting Starbuck to get to Cally, but without success.

"Since then, the two have often been seen together on the Galactica and Colonial One."

"Cally," Apollo whined, and now she was sure he was laughing.

"The nature of their interaction leads us to conclude—"

"Damn it, Cally, that's an order." She would have obeyed if she believed him, but given that he was still laughing almost too hard to get the words out (probably not helped by the fact that he was now down on the floor wrestling with Starbuck), she couldn't take him seriously.

"…leads us to conclude," she repeated. "That their relationship goes far beyond professional. In fact—"

"Attention on deck," somebody called, and Cally broke off as Commander Adama walked onto the hanger bay. All the deckhands snapped to attention, trying desperately to contain their mirth, while Starbuck and Apollo scrambled to their feet, both red-faced, covered with grease and breathing hard.

"What's going on here?" Adama demanded gruffly.

"Nothing, sir," Apollo answered quickly, before anyone could say anything incriminating.

"Just reading the morning paper, sir," Starbuck added, and Apollo twitched next to her, as though only his strictest military control could keep him from turning to glare at her. "Have you seen it?"

"The paper?" Adama asked in the same serious voice. Cally wasn't sure whether he was really angry or just playing with them. It was hard to tell with the commander, and at this point he seemed more confused than anything else.

"Show him, Cally," Starbuck said, waving her forward.

Cally handed over the sheet, then struggled not to laugh as Adama started reading. His face was impassive, and he didn't look up. Titters escaped a few of the less stoic deckhands. She couldn't see Apollo's expression, but he was standing as stiffly as if he was watching a firing squad take aim.

Finally, Adama looked up from the article. He stared at Apollo for what felt like a very long time until he seemed on the verge of squirming, then asked in a soft voice, "Is there something you want to tell me, Captain?"

Now Apollo did squirm, for about five seconds before Starbuck (who seemed to be better able to read the commander) burst out laughing, and Adama gave one of his little smiles. "At ease, all of you," he said, and Cally and the others joined in the laughter.

Apollo smiled ruefully, and took the opportunity to finally give Starbuck that glare. "Just you wait," Cally heard him say. Starbuck just smirked.


End file.
